The Tower
by lurv2boogie
Summary: Hermione takes a late-night walk to ease her insomnia. Malfoy, no longer malicious but as arrogant as ever, stumbles across her during a similar excursion. What happens next? Insults and witticisms are traded, among other things. Dramione. Not DH-canon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I have terrible insomnia right now. Real life is always the best inspiration :) **

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Hermione Granger had always had a certain amount of difficulty getting to sleep. It wasn't the sleeping part itself that eluded her - once she got to sleep, she slept deeply and often to great length – but rather the transition from being awake to actually being asleep. The falling part.

She rolled over in her bed in the Gryffindor Dormitory, stretching, and a frustrated sigh escaped from her lips. Her mind scrolled forward to the next day and in horror she pictured herself falling asleep over a cauldron or something equally inconvenient. She needed to get to sleep, she knew. She sighed again and sat up in bed, her hair wildly cascading over her shoulders. She tugged at it, frustrated, and slouched. While she was used to needing a while to actually fall asleep, it hardly ever took a length of time even vaguely equivocal to this.

It wasn't that she hadn't tried, of course: she'd started with the basic Muggle remedies for insomnia. Counting sheep, picturing a beach – even holding her breath in the hopes that she would just pass out. All to no avail, of course (though, admittedly, she didn't have high hopes for the last one). When her mother's traditional cures failed her, she attempted to cast a fatigue charm (her wand refused to turn on its owner), _accio_'d some hot tea from the kitchen (it spilt all over her bed before she'd even laid hands on it) and was even desperate enough to summon some of Fred and George's Fainting Fancies – although when they actually arrived she couldn't bring herself to eat one. The formula was a little temperamental, she knew, and she decided she much preferred the thought of not sleeping to the thought of possibly not waking up until the following year.

Hermione stared up at the ceiling blankly. It was time to accept her fate, she decided – she was, apparently, not going to be sleeping tonight.

Nodding to herself, she made a snap decision. Hermione gathered up her pillow and blanket into a neat bundle under her arm and slid off her bed, creeping silently towards the door. The Astronomy Tower would at least give her a view to admire.

She crept along the hallways, occasionally sparing a glance around corners for any unwelcome wanderers, each time quietly breathing a sigh of relief when no one sprung into her line of vision.

It took her less than ten minutes to reach the Astronomy tower and settle there comfortably, sitting on her pillow with her blanket wrapped warmly around her arms. It was comforting. Peaceful. If she wasn't going to sleep tonight at least she would be bloody relaxed.

"Granger?"

_Shit_.

Speaking too soon – truly a cruel epidemic.

Hermione recognised the smooth voice instantly, of course – when you spend seven-odd years being taunted continuously by a person, you learn to recognise their tone quality. Call it self-preservation.

"Not in the mood, Malfoy."

A snort. "Thank Merlin. Now I won't have to listen to a Mudblood waste valuable seconds of my time begging me to bed her."

"Me? Begging you to _bed_ me? Please, Malfoy, I'm not that desperate."

"Oh, so you're only a little desperate, then?"

Hermione paused. "Go away."

A dark figure emerged from around the corner, platinum-blond hair shining in the moonlight. Merlin, it was almost fluorescent. Even in the dark, Hermione could make out the malicious smirk which played across his features.

"I'd rather not just yet, thanks. You see, Mudblood, it just so happens that I have a certain amount of authority within these school walls and as such I would like to know what a pathetic teacher's pet like you is doing walking around the school at so very late an hour."

"I _could_ ask the same of you. Observe me restraining myself."

He didn't say anything after that. Hermione looked up at him, and smiled inwardly. He was still the same insufferable brat that he'd always been, that much was sure; but since the end of the war the two of them had built something of a rapport. They were part of the small handful of students who had returned to Hogwarts to complete their education – although she had been surprised to see him that first day back, a certain part of her mind ached with relief. He was, however distasteful, at least something familiar to cling to. His voice carried across the room, breaking her train of thought.

"Really though, Mudbood. Why are you up here?"

"Replace one of the words in that sentence and I might tell you."

"Fine. Granger. Whatever. Why are you here?"

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

The figure shrugged. Hermione sighed.

"Not a particularly exciting reason. I couldn't sleep. You?"

"None of your business."

Hermione laughed. There was another pause.

"I couldn't sleep either."

"Ah."

Another silence washed across the room.

"It's nice out here," Hermione offered, made uncomfortable by the quiet.

"What terribly exciting small talk."

"Very bloody funny. You say something then, if you can do better."

Malfoy snorted derisively. "You appear to be working under the assumption that I wish to engage in said small talk with you. I have better things to do with my time, Granger. Like watching grass grow."

"Go watch it grow, then. Elsewhere."

Another pause. Hermione frowned. She was getting tired of this.

"It may surprise you to learn that your not leaving hasn't escaped my attention. What do you want from me, Malfoy?"

He paused. "I don't know, exactly."

Hermione frowned again. What?

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"To not know. To be unaware. Indeed, to lack knowledge or awareness. Come on, Granger, you're smarter than that."

"I _meant_-"

"I know what you meant."

"Oh."

Malfoy stood up from the table on which he had been previously perched and walked towards Hermione, surprising her as he slid down the wall about two feet away from where she was sitting. What was he doing?

"Did you finish that Telekenesis Elixir essay for Snape?"

"Yesterday. Three feet. You?"

"About the same."

"Look," Hermione began confusedly, "As much as I appreciate the small talk, you must have some reason for being up here and I'd rather like to know what it is so that I can be sure you're not trying to poison me."

"Oh, Granger, don't be stupid. If I was going to kill you, Avada Kadavra would be the best way forward. We both know that."

"Malfoy…"

"Alright, alright. I couldn't sleep and I wanted to come up here to look at the stars. And then you were up here…" He coughed. "It feels strange to be rooting for the same team as you."

Hermione laughed self-consciously; a timid, breathy laugh. "I know what you mean. You spend so long hating someone…"

A sharp intake of breath. "You hated me?"

Hermione blanched. "Um. Did you not hate me?"

"Do chickens fly, Granger?"

"Well, actually, no-"

"Not the point."

"Right."

"No, of course I hated you, Granger," he drawled, though Hermione heard a new edge to the tone in his voice. "I just find it surprising that _you_ hated _me_. I am, after all, deliciously irresistible."

Hermione snorted, and heard a chuckle from Malfoy's direction.

"What's this? Draco Malfoy – laughing? I'm glad the personality transplant took well."

"Funny, Granger."

"Well, I try."

"It's good though."

"The transplant?"

"That we don't hate each other any more."

"Ah," Hermione said, pseudo-sagely, and then, as an afterthought, "Don't put words in my mouth."

"Oh, Granger, give it up. If I don't hate you, you certainly don't hate me."

"Good to see your raging egomaniacal tendencies are under check."

"Well, I try."

There was another pause, and Hermione sensed that Malfoy was thinking intently on how to phrase whatever it was he was going to say next. She wasn't even going to attempt to predict it – Draco Malfoy, it seemed, was full of surprises tonight.

Finally, Hermione saw Malfoy shift slightly where he was sitting and he spoke. "You're different than how I thought you were."

She froze.

"What do you mean?"

It was another moment before he spoke again. "You're terribly insecure. But you hide it under your intelligence because you always thought knowledge was power. I do that too. The arrogance, you know – a product of overcompensation for insecurities."

Hermione didn't quite know what to say to that. She confessed so.

Malfoy laughed. "That's alright. Finally, something that Granger doesn't know."

Hermione laughed too, searching for any hint of malice in his tone. There was none.

"Why did you tell me that?"

"I suppose because it's important. You need to know that I see right through you, Granger. The way you see through me."

She swallowed. She sensed the implication in his words – and he was right, of course. There was some kind of connection between them; a passionate one at that. One that had always manifested itself as anger. What would they do when the anger dissipated completely?

"I do see through you," she replied, because it was the only thing running through her head that made sense.

"Mm."

"Why couldn't you sleep tonight?" Hermione asked, changing the subject without carelessly. She could have been more subtle about it, she supposed… but bluntness worked just as effectively. More so, probably.

"Thinking too much. I'm too much in my head, Granger."

Was it just her imagination, or was Draco Malfoy and his platinum head coming closer towards her?

"Oh?"

"Yes," He was whispering now. And definitely a lot closer. "I need to get out of my head, Granger."

And with that he closed the distance between them. Hermione froze in shock, her muscles seizing, and it felt like an hour before she relaxed into his mouth. Her brain screamed at her to stop, screamed at her that it wasn't right – but the pure absurdity of the notion that Draco Malfoy was wilfully kissing her had numbed her body into submission. His kisses were soft, and full of emotion, so gentle that she felt compelled to return them.

He didn't attempt to put his hands on her face, or touch her body, or even slip his tongue into her mouth. It was a chaste kiss, as far as kisses went – and over before it had barely begun.

Despite everything it wasn't, it was definitely a surprise in all respects and every sense of the word.

When he broke away from her, her eyes scanned the room left to right, the paranoia in her searching for an invisible third person who might have witnessed this bizarre event. It was a good few minutes before it was satisfied, and she opened her mouth to speak.

"You kissed me."

"Yes." The voice that escaped Draco Malfoy's lips wasn't the one she had been used to. This voice was stripped bare of its arrogant and assuming tones. It was timid.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

Hermione calmly fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"You don't know? You don't know why you just kissed me?"

"Basically."

"Oh."

Silence, Hermione decided, was some kind of rampant disease in this tower.

"Do you… Malfoy, do you have, you know… feelings for me?"

"Chickens don't fly, Granger."

"Right."

"Or… I don't know. Maybe they do."

"Honesty. Wow."

"I know. Merlin-forbid it should ever happen again," he replied, and Hermione was relieved to hear the smile in his tone that must have been tugging at his lips.

"So what do we do now?"

"I think you should go back to your bed, Hermione. And I think you should keep this to yourself."

It took a moment for the use of her first name to register. It sounded foreign and strange coming from his lips.

"I'm confused, Draco."

"And I'm not?"

"Fair enough."

There was a final brief pause, during which Hermione decided to just gather up her belongings and leave. It would be easier to think about this in the morning, when there was sunlight and the chatter of hundreds of other students to keep her awake and focused. She swung the pillow and blanket under her arm and walked towards the door, pausing before she left.

"Sleep well, Draco."

Malfoy didn't reply until he was sure she was well out of earshot.

"Sleep well. Hermione."

--

He wasn't in love with her, that much was certain. Hermione had decided almost as soon as she'd left the Astronomy Tower that that explanation was just too far detached from reality to even possibly be correct. She walked through the halls, letting her feet guide her back to the Gryffindor Tower absent-mindedly.

He had kissed her. Draco Malfoy. The two concepts were completely antithetical. It made no sense. And yet.

She couldn't deny that she felt elation in her stomach, in her head, in her lungs when he kissed her. The strangest joy she'd ever experienced.

Hermione fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. And that night, she dreamt of platinum-blond kisses and dark towers.

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**A/N: Forgive me if there are errors... it's 1:40am and that tends to make one a little sloppy when it comes to editing. :) I know it's kind of an open ending, and I'm not really planning on writing a sequel oneshot, but if you guys want a second chapter or something then I suppose I can. If you're just curious to know what happens to them, you can always PM me or ask in a review or something.**

**Cheers guys. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter two, because I'm now rather fond of this story. Might make it a full-length fic. Will work out some kind of story-arc at some point... until then, happy reading chaps :)**

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When Hermione awoke the next morning, she'd almost completely convinced herself of two things: firstly, that she had had a terribly bizarre and embarrassing dream the night before and secondly, that she would never go into the Astronomy Tower again.

It was so much easier to believe that Draco Malfoy kissing her was a dream, something conjured up from the depths of her imagination, than to consider the possibility that it was as real and tangible as the clothes that she was now dressing herself with. Logically, of course, it was far more probable that she had dreamt the whole thing than it actually having happened.

He was a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. Malfoys did not walk around kissing Muggleborns. Malfoys did not exchange pleasantries with Muggleborns.

Of course Draco Malfoy hadn't kissed her. Of course he hadn't.

She made her way to the Great Hall, letting the grumbling that came from her stomach guide the way. It felt as though she hadn't eaten for years. She sat at the Gryffindor table, eagerly piling toast and chipolatas onto her plate, and looked up to find where the pumpkin juice had disappeared to – and Draco Malfoy was staring at her from across the room. Hermione nervously looked around her, wondering if his gaze was directed elsewhere; but no, his eyes were definitely boring into hers.

As soon as she locked eyes with him, though, she instantly knew she simply hadn't dreamt that kiss last night. The tower, the weak conversation, the unexpected snog… all of it was real. She looked at him with some confusion, looked around again, and then looked back at him – but when she did, his eyes were no longer on her. He was, in fact, chatting casually to the sixth year sitting next to him.

She swallowed the strange emotions which were building up in her throat along with a bite of toast and, replete, left the Great Hall to return to her dormitory. Double Potions was first on the agenda – although Malfoy would be there too, the class was at least challenging enough to divert most of her attention from him.

She arrived at the Dungeons in near-record time, but was pleased to see that Ginny Weasley was early as well. Ginny smiled as Hermione approached.

"Hey. Sleep well last night?"

Hermione smiled, her expression laden with irony. "Couldn't sleep. Took a walk."

"Oh dear," Ginny said, chuckling. Hermione smiled again, though this one was more good-humoured.

"It was alright. I got to sleep eventually."

"Well that's good. Do the homework?"

Hermione laughed. "Please, Miss Weasley, it's me we're talking about here."

"Too true. My apologies," Ginny laughed, and shook her head at herself disbelievingly. Hermione reached for the essay she had written, and the two of them stood by the Dungeon door in silence as she proofread her work for the fifth time since yesterday.

It wasn't long before Snape arrived anyway, angrily demanding that the students set their essays on the table in front of him as they walked past to their seats. Hermione noted with a certain satisfaction that no one had failed to submit their essays – often it felt like a battle between the class and Snape, and this was definitely a win for the class. He sneered at the class as they took their seats.

"Finish the reading on Veritaserum. Begin brewing the potion. At the end of class, seal your cauldron and put it away to brew further. You have two hours." Snape sneered again, one side of his mouth arching upwards villainously. "Do so in silence. For any person who speaks there will be a special kind of hell to pay."

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. Veritaserum. At least it was something to detract her attention from Malfoy. Already having finished the reading, of course, she set about fetching ingredients and setting up her cauldron.

Preparing to carefully cut the spine of lionfish that sat on the desk in front of her, Hermione paused. She felt eyes on the back of her head, and when she turned around, she gasped. Malfoy had chosen the desk directly behind her. Blushing, she turned back to her cauldron, and she could have sworn she'd heard a small chuckle escape from near behind her.

It had barely felt like two minutes before Snape's voice slid across the room.

"I expect to be thoroughly disappointed," he said, looking sour. "Put your cauldrons away to brew and _leave_."

With that, Snape left the room, black robes billowing out menacingly behind him. Hermione stared after him. That was bizarre behaviour, even for Snape. She shrugged it off.

Levitating her now-sealed cauldron, Hermione guided it over to the other side of the room where other students had placed their work. She followed it over, making sure that none of the potion spilt over the sides – and felt something bump up against her shoulder. She looked around but saw no one, now completely alone in the Dungeon. But she glanced down briefly and saw a small piece of folded parchment sitting by her foot.

Carefully levitating her cauldron towards the ground, she bent to pick up the parchment.

_Stop looking at me. _

_Could you __be__ any more obvious? _

Hermione smiled to herself, picked up her belongings, and left.

--

She didn't see Draco Malfoy in any more of her classes that day, despite the fact that their timetable was practically identical. In fact, as she absently scoured the Great Hall that night, Malfoy's figure didn't jump into her line of vision at all. He was, it seemed, nowhere to be seen.

The next day was a similar situation. No Malfoy anywhere. It didn't concern Hermione too much – it was probably just one of those things. Merlin knows she didn't see Ginny all day every day, even though they shared a dorm. It wasn't that unusual that she hadn't see Malfoy for almost two days straight.

_But it is!_ She thought to herself confusedly. _Where the hell is he_?

--

It was three days before she saw him again – she had been sitting at the table in the Great Hall, eating her lunch, when she looked up and he was sitting in his usual seat at the Slytherin table, apparently engrossed in conversation with Blaise Zabini. She stared at him, shocked, for a moment – and he looked up at her. For a second, a brief moment, they locked eyes; and then suddenly it was over, and he was once again engrossed in conversation. It happened so quickly that Hermione wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it.

She shook it off and left the table, leaving Ginny's splutters of protest in her wake. No matter – she would see Ginny later. She needed to think about this now.

She climbed a set of stairs leading to the library, deciding that being buried in a pile of books would not only ensure some quiet but also no interruptions. After all, what fool interrupted Hermione Granger when she was in the middle of studying?

It was terribly quiet in the library. No one else was in there, barring Madam Pince. Hermione felt oddly apprehensive as she approached a table hidden away near the stacks and sat herself in the chair next to it. She closed her eyes, resting her head on the table.

"Granger."

Hermione closed her eyes. The sense of déjà vu was almost overwhelming.

"Haven't seen you for a few days."

Draco pulled a chair up beside her, shooting an apologetic glance her way.

"I've been busy."

"Busy avoiding me?"

Draco laughed.

"Can't slip anything by you, can I?"

"Not a thing."

She smiled briefly at him, and he smiled back – a small smile; one of defeat, of longing, of some other inexorable emotion which flitted across his expression. Hermione barely had time to register it, and it was gone in a second.

"I don't know how to be around you," he said, as though that explained everything. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

"I don't understand. Nothing's changed, really. It doesn't need to, anyway."

Draco laughed humourlessly. "Hermione, don't be so naive. Everything's changed."

"I suppose," Hermione conceded after a short hesitation. There was a pause.

"I was trying to avoid you," Draco clarified. He paused hesitantly. "The thing is… it seems that… well…" He broke off, and looked out across the library. "I can't."

"Well that's not so surprising," Hermione began. "We do live in the same place and have every class together…"

Draco cut her off, laughing. "You know, Hermione, for someone so bright you really are a bit thick sometimes."

"What? What do you mean?"

"My mind won't seem to let me avoid you. It doesn't want me to," he said, kicking a nearby desk. An angry 'shh' came from the other side of the stacks. "I don't particularly want me to either."

"Oh," Hermione said, and looked at him briefly. His expression was unfathomable. "I'm sorry, I still don't understand what you're trying to tell me."

"You've… urgh, you've annexed my thoughts, Granger, and I'd really like them back," Draco said dramatically, clenching his fists in frustration. "I don't know what to do about this. I don't even know what _this _is. But I know it's different."

"I don't know what to say."

"Say that you hate me, that you never want to see me again, and be honest about it," Draco said. His tone was almost pleading. Hermione looked up at him – his eyes were nervous.

"What will that solve?"

"It'll make it easier for me to stay away from you."

"Okay," Hermione took a deep breath. "I hate you. I never want to see you again. Honestly."

"And once more with feeling," Draco snapped sarcastically, and Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"You know very well it's not the truth, Malfoy."

"Oh, you didn't address me by my first name. We're half way there."

Hermione snapped. "Stop trying to be antagonistic. I know you think it's going to make it easier on yourself but there must be an easier way for all parties involved than you just being a bastard."

Draco paused. "Sorry."

"Yes, well," Hermione sniffed. "You need a more mature approach to this, _Draco_. Or a different one, at the very least."

"Mature? I'm not being immature!"

"I didn't say you were," Hermione sighed. "You just need to calm down so that you can think clearly."

"How is this not more difficult for you?" Draco asked wildly, eyes wide. "Why am I suffering like an idiot over this while you seem to be perfectly content with the fact that we kissed the other night."

"First of all, you kissed me—"

"And you kissed me right back, Granger! There are two guilty parties in this, not just the one, and ducking our heads in the sand isn't going to help!"

"I'm not _ducking_—"

"Yes you are!"

"Would you stop interrupting me for a _second_—"

And suddenly, once again, his lips were on hers and she was surprised at the relief that flooded her body when he kissed her. It felt like she'd been holding her breath for the few days that she hadn't seen him and now— it felt like comfort. It felt like coming home.

She stood up, still kissing him, sliding one hand up his neck and into his hair, keeping the other locked around his waist, pulling him in closer to her. He kept both hands locked firmly to her back, holding her tight against his body.

She opened her mouth for a second, to gasp for air, and Draco seized the opportunity with abandon, slipping his tongue gently into her mouth. She shuddered at how good this felt – how natural. Like she was made to fit in the curve of his body.

He pushed her up against the stacks, the kiss deepening and becoming more passionate, more desperate. One of Draco's hands travelled up Hermione's back, reaching her neck and into her hair.

She wasn't particularly beautiful, yes, but _Merlin_ she was passionate and held a fire in her eyes, even when she was relaxed, that he had never seen before.

The kiss slowed gradually, and when it became so slow it was almost at a stop, Draco broke away and bent his head to kiss the corner of her jaw under her left ear. He kissed it once, twice, and then looked back up at her. Hermione noted the honest wanting in his face and the passion in his eyes and felt, for a moment, that this was the first time she'd ever really seen him.

He held himself against her gently, kissing the top of her forehead. He was so much taller than she was.

"I don't want to stay away from you, Hermione," he told her honestly, and she almost told him not to, almost told him to stay with her forever and just keep holding her and kissing her. But she didn't.

"I think," she began gently, "that there are too many obstacles."

Draco closed his eyes. "I know. Too many obstacles."

"But it's so hard to not just _damn_ all the obstacles."

Draco opened his eyes again and smiled.

"What if I did?"

"What if you did what?"

His smile widened. "Damn the obstacles, Granger."

And suddenly he was gone in a flurry of black robes.

Hermione blinked. She wondered briefly if she should be a little apprehensive as to what would happen next.

Strange afternoon.

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please R&R. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi! Can't believe it, I'm actually posting something... thanks to DramioneLover22 for the kick up the backside I needed to get going again. 2009 has been ridiculous as yet... Here's hoping I make more time to write again soon, eh? In the meantime, enjoy!**

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As Hermione lay in bed the following night, thoughts racing, she once again found herself in the rather uncomfortable predicament of not being able to sleep. Albeit, she didn't mind too much – at least this time her lack of sleep was precipitated by happy thoughts of handsome young men with blonde hair.

It was confusing, this whole situation, to say the least: she might be able to come to terms with the fact that Malfoy had now kissed her twice, but she was having much more difficulty comprehending the fact that he was, apparently, now looking to '_damn the obstacles_' – whatever he figured they may be – in order to maker kissing her again a possibility. It was, to put it lightly, mind-boggling.

Honestly, she had rather expected Malfoy to pull his disappearing trick again. Hermione had the entire series of events worked out in her mind – she would spend a day looking for him, finding him nowhere and ending up looking a little strange and perhaps a little foolish. Three days or so would pass and there would still be no sign of him – and then, after a "suitable" amount of time had passed, he would appear to her briefly, like some vision of divine inspiration, after which he would disappear again. That was just the dynamics of the relationship.

She was well aware that he had promised to 'damn the obstacles' – but really. This was Malfoy she was talking about. And Hermione was no fool.

Which was why she was so thoroughly surprised when the morning after the incident in the library, as she was sitting by the lake, she heard a voice yell her name from somewhere behind her. As she turned to see who it was, she was surprised to find Malfoy walking towards her, smiling like it was Christmas, hands casually buried in the pockets of his robes.

"Do let your jaw drop just a little wider, Hermione. I'm not sure some of the bigger birds in the area will fit in there if you don't."

"That made barely any sense."

"It made sense. You just chose to be confused," he said, and dropped to the ground next to her, leaning back against a tree.

"Maybe," Hermione conceded, though she knew even as she was saying it that it was just a silence-filler.

"How did you sleep last night?" he asked gently. She smiled wryly at him.

"Like a log," she lied. "Best night's sleep I ever had."

He arched an eyebrow at her and stared.

"Fine," she admitted after a moment, rolling her eyes and chuckling lightly. "I was awake most of the night."

"Couldn't stop thinking about me?" Draco chuckled, and Hermione rolled her eyes again.

"No, Mr Light-Shines-Out-Of-My-Arse. I was actually thinking about Ginny."

Draco sighed despondently. "You were thinking about the Weaselette? Not that that isn't a turn-on, but really…"

"Oh, not like that!" Hermione hit Draco in the chest playfully. "I was thinking about her and you." She paused. "That came out wrong."

"I should hope so," he sniffed indignantly.

"Let's try again. I was thinking about her reaction when she finds out about us."

"What do you mean, when she finds out?"

Hermione stared at him, incredulous. "Well, people are going to find out eventually. I mean, you're not exactly being inconspicuous about it."

"No, I'm not, but that doesn't mean we have to shout it from the rooftops!"

"But you were perfectly happy to shout it across the courtyard a minute ago?"

Draco shrugged. "No one heard. No one's around."

"So the only reason you were happy to call my name in public is because no one was around to hear you?"

Draco paused, sensing he was moving into dangerous territory. He looked nervous. The expression looked almost amusing on his face. "Yes?"

Hermione gasped indignantly. "And what about all that 'damn the obstacles' crap?"

"What about it? I'm not saying I don't still want to damn them, Hermione, I'm just saying I don't think that damning the obstacles is necessarily synonymous with telling everyone who'll listen that we're together."

"So we are together?" Hermione asked after a beat, and Draco looked away. "Come on," she coaxed gently, "You knew I was bound to ask sooner or later."

"Oh, Granger, you're smarter than that. If you didn't know, how would you expect me to?"

"Well, that's fair. I suppose."

A pause.

"If I'm honest… I want to be with you. I like being around you. I don't like liking it."

Hermione chuckled. "I'm going to choose not to be offended."

"It's just a difficult situation. For Merlin's sake, Granger," He took a breath, steadying himself. "You're the best friend of my arch-nemesis."

"Well, sure, if you want to get all _Marvel Comics _about it."

"I'm not even going to pretend to know what you're talking about," Malfoy said dryly, rolling his eyes. "And it's beside the point anyway."

"If that's not the point, what is?" Hermione asked quietly, and Malfoy snorted.

"I don't know."

The two sat in silence for a moment, watching a lazy tentacle rise in and out of the water in front of them.

"Well, what do you know? Not only does the giant squid exist, but it can wave," Hermione said, and Draco smiled, moving closer to Hermione. His hand slid over hers and she laced his fingers through his, savouring the warmth.

Draco sighed. "Let's be logical about this. I like being with you – you like being with me. There's no need to deny ourselves _that_ particular pleasure, even if it means being a little secretive about it."

"Let me get this straight," Hermione began heatedly. "You want to sneak me around like some kind of... of… _scarlet woman_… kissing me in dark corridors and having quickies in the library stacks? Did you honestly think I'd go for that?"

"Granger, get a grip. It's not as though I'm suggesting we have one night and then leave it at that. And of course we won't have quickies in the library – do you know how many people _go _there to – how to put it? – engage in similar kinds of activities? We'd be seen and probably photographed."

"So what you're saying is you're embarrassed to be seen with me but as long as you're getting the goods in private, everything's great?"

"For Merlin's sake, Granger! I was joking!"

Hermione pursed her lips. "How terribly amusing."

"What about you? I don't suppose you're waiting with delicious anticipation for the moment you get to tell all your friends that you're fraternising with the enemy?"

"I never said I was," Hermione exclaimed heatedly, building steam. "But I'm not suggesting we turn this farcical excuse for a relationship into something from a bad 1920s espionage movie!"

Draco looked at her, ashamed for a moment, before opening his mouth to speak.

"… What's a movie?"

"Oh, forget it."

"Well, if being together secretively is too offensive to your sense of being, what do you suggest?"

Hermione sighed sheepishly. "I don't have a suggestion."

"Well there you go. Those are our two choices, Hermione, for now. Stay away from each other or be together in secret. Which do you want most?"

She kissed him briefly in response, and settled comfortably into his chest. He sighed, and put his arms around her, almost protective.

"What are we going to do about this, Draco?" she asked him gently, and he didn't answer. His silence was unsettling. Knowing that neither of them knew how to solve the problem did nothing to settle her anxiety.

There had never before been a question that Hermione Granger couldn't answer.

And, she thought wryly, she always had found Draco Malfoy rather… _questionable_.

* * *

**A/N: R&R? :)**


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